


Baby, we go together like cookies and milk

by Samyx914



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Meeting, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, Swearing, broganes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samyx914/pseuds/Samyx914
Summary: One chilly December night, Lance and Hunk decide to bake cookies. For whatever reason, they end up with way too much dough and have to find a way to get rid of dozens of extra cookies. In the name of Christmas spirit, they package them up and take them around to their neighbors.When Lance knocks on Keith's door, something's good is bound to happen.





	Baby, we go together like cookies and milk

**Author's Note:**

> This is my @klance2017secretsanta gift fic for @redyarns!
> 
>  
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this and that you had a very happy holiday season!

Lance McClain steps into his building, shaking off the cold December air. His best friend and roommate, Hunk, right behind him, pulling their grocery trolley along. Lance holds the door for him.

“Thanks, man.” Hunk says, dragging their cart over the small hump of the door frame.

“No problem,” Lance lets the door fall closed when Hunk is over the threshold. He grabs their mail and tosses a couple crumpled fliers into the trash on the way to the elevator.

“Anything for me?”

“Just a sec,” Lance says, starting to flip through the envelopes. He hands Hunk a couple and keeps the others for himself.

“What’s this?” Lance starts, fiddling with an envelope labeled with his sister’s return address.

“Why did I see ‘o-W-o’ when you said that?” Hunk asks. Lance laughs.

“Oowoo,” Lance says, he runs his finger under the sealed portion of the envelope, careful not to tear it too badly. He peeks inside to see what it is. _Oh duh._ “It’s a Christmas card from Vally.” Lance smiles.

“Aw cute. Any money inside?” Hunk asks. Lance gives him a look.

“What? I’m asking the important questions.” Hunk says, raising his hand.

“I mean, I dunno. I haven’t opened it yet.” Lance says. He jabs the up button on the elevator. “I’ll open it when we get in the house.” Lance slides his mail into one of the pockets on their cart and they stand there for a couple minutes, talking while they wait for the elevator to open.

“I’m so pumped to make these cookies, man!” Lance says, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. “I haven’t eaten a cookie that wasn’t an Oreo in so long.” Hunk laughs.

“Yeah, same. Like, they’re not even that hard to make. But I never think to make them,” Hunk replies. “I hope it’s a good recipe. I literally just picked one online. It was like, the first link that popped up when I searched chocolate chip cookies.” He admits.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Lance says. The elevator dings and both friends start to step forward to get on. But the doors stay closed. Lance gives Hunk a look and his friend shrugs. Lance presses the button again, but to no avail.

“Aw, man. Is it broken?” Hunk groans. A stranger— one of their neighbors Lance is sure, but he cannot remember her name— appears from the direction of the stairwell.

“Hey fellas. The doors are stuck. I don’t know if something is jammed into them or what, but they just won’t open. I’ve tried them several times since I found out it wasn’t working.” Their neighbor pauses to heft her large handbag onto her shoulder. “I already called maintenance.”

“Did they say anything?” Lance asks. She sighs.

“They said they’d look at it when they can. You’d think they’d at least be able to put up out of order signs or something.” She adjusts the strap of her bag again and heads for the front door.

“See ya,” Lance says softly. But she’s already out of the building. _Why are old people so rude?_ He thinks about the maybe thirty-five year old woman.

“Stairs? _And the rolly cart_?” Hunk groans. Lance slaps his hand over his friend’s shoulder.

“At least we don’t live on the top floor.”

“Yeah. No way would I drag this thing up six flights of stairs.” Hunk says.

“Should we take turns?” Lance asks.

“Okay, sure. You take the first and last,” he laughs, handing off the cart to Lance. He grasps the handle and pulls it along.

“That’s fair. You pulled it from the shop.” Lance says. Hunk pushes open the door to the stairwell, letting Lance through. Lance tugs the cart up onto the first step. He looks back at Hunk, “no big deal.”

His tune changes completely by the time he reaches the ninth step. “So, I know we got the magical stair wheels thing. So why. Does it. Suck so much?” He grits out as he yanks it up onto the landing to the second floor.

“I don’t know, man. Like, these extra wheely dudes don’t help at all. And it cost like, ten bucks more than the other one.” Hunk says with a sigh before he takes the cart from Lance. And starts dragging their precious cargo— enough ingredients for three batches of cookies— up the stairs, towards their destination.

“Stupid dumb wheels.” Hunk says. “They don’t even move, do they?” He asks. Lance watches as Hunk pulls it up a stair. He shakes his head.

“Nope. God, somebody got us good with this piece of crap.” Lance says.

“Well, I mean, it’s a decent cart. Unless you need to use the stairs. But dang.” Hunk finishes his flight and Lance gets an idea.

“How heavy do you think that is?” Lance asks.

“Uh, it’s like… ten pounds on its own, plus all the crap inside, why?” Hunk asks, raising a brow. Lance does some quick math, adding up all the things they’d just bought. Flour, sugars, milk, eggnog. A bunch of other crap he doesn’t remember.

“It can’t be _that_ heavy.” Lance says. He folds the handle down for a moment and grabs one of the bag’s straps.

“Holy crap, dude. Be careful.” Lance lifts the bag and _darts_ up the steps. Fucking Sonic the Hedgehog is in the building. He sets the contraption down carefully, in fear of busted their eggs, and takes a couple breaths waiting for his friend to catch up.

“Bad idea.” Lance says, stretching his back.

“You made it.” Hunk chuckles.

“But at what cost?” Lance asks, dramatically leaning against the wall with an arm across his forehead.

“Oh geez. C’mon man, it’s like, twenty- five steps to the couch.” Hunk says. Lance perks up and pushes against the wall to stand straight. He grabs the wrecked cart’s handle and slams open the door to their floor. He hears Hunk rummaging through his pocket for the key. They reach their door and Lance waits for Hunk to pull the key out and unlock the door for him. Then he flips on the light, shoving the rolly cart inside.

“Home, sweet home.” Lance says, hopping up onto the kitchen island.

“We were gone for an hour,” Hunk laughs.

“Okay, yeah, true. But! Those people were so crazy!” Lance exclaims, he kicks off his shoes, letting them hit the floor. He’d thought this old white woman was going to physically harm Hunk over the last couple bags of semisweet chocolate chips. She was kind of terrifying.

“Yeah, that lady! Holy crap.” Hunk asks, dropping to one knee to unload their groceries.

“Yeah. She had like two million packages of those premade cookies. I don’t know why she so desperately needed chocolate chips.” Lance says, scoffing.

“Maybe she wanted to make fudge or something?” Hunk guesses. “But still, not cool to yell at someone for baking ingredients.” He hands Lance the chocolate, he sets it down beside him.

“You’re so sneaky though. Oh my God.” Lance giggles. They’d been about to grab the last four bags of chips off the shelf when she came up and told them that she needed it more than them. And Hunk very respectfully told her that they’d gotten there first. Then she started shouting about how awful young people are and how you should respect your elders.

Then, Hunk offered to give her one of the bags, because they only really needed three for their recipe. But she demanded them all, so Hunk just threw them into the top basket part of her cart and stalked on with theirs. Lance was shocked on two counts; one, that the lady was so rude and entitled and two, that Hunk actually gave in. Lance had been ready to yell back at her, but Hunk stopped him.

Later on, she was yelling at an employee that they were out of some kind of cereal. So, Hunk seized the opportunity to sneak over and grab all four bags out of her cart and toss them into theirs. A clerk gave them a look, but didn’t say anything. He’s probably had the pleasure of dealing with her before. But they’d laughed all the way out of the store with their chocolate chips.

“Really though, the day that I fight an old lady for baking supplies is nearing.” Hunk says. Lance laughs.

“Pfft. You wouldn’t fight an old lady in the middle of a supermarket.”

“Of course not, we’d take it outside. Wouldn’t wanna wreck the store.” Hunk says, with a scarily serious expression. Lance holds back a laugh imagining his lifelong best friend in a Mortal Kombat style battle to the death with this old woman. Hunk hands Lance a carton of eggs and he sits it down next to him. Then comes a gallon of milk, some eggnog, flour, and suddenly, there’s no room left for Lance to sit. So he comes down off his perch and helps his friend unbag the rest of the groceries.

“Want me to get out all the bowls and stuff?” Lance asks, offering Hunk a hand to pull him up. Hunk grunts.

“Eh, sure. If you want. I’m gonna go put on something that’s not this sweater. It’s so warm in here.”

Lance nods, “okay.” It feels perfectly fine to him, but Hunk is always warm. He like, emits heat like a fucking radiator. Lance slips behind the counter and starts pulling out cooking utensils. Some cookie sheets, parchment paper, measuring devices, and a fork. Because they’ve yet to buy a whisk for the almost two years they’ve lived here. Then he has to crouch down into the floor to grab the biggest bowl he’s ever seen, that he’s sure he could sit in if he tried. He finds it piled under some other various pots and pans. He gives it a tug and several things clatter out onto the ground.

“Shit!”

“Are you alright?” Hunk shouts from his room.

“Yeah, just all the pans.” Lance answers.

By the time he’s done assembling all their shit, Hunk still isn’t back. Lance remembers his mail that he’d put in the rolly cart’s pocket. He bends down to get it and out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small switch near the triple wheels. _Wait a second._ His eyes widen. _Really?_ He presses it down hard, because it’s a little stuck, and uses the back of his hand to spin the super wheel. And it rotates. Like it should.

They’ve had this cart for _months_. And only now has Lance gotten the wheel thing to turn. He laughs to himself at how dumb they are. How, after using it at least once a week for seven months, did they never notice a weird lever sticking off the wheel? He’s tempted to call Hunk over to show him, but he’s busy changing, so he’ll wait. Instead, he puts his face in his hands and has a good laugh, before pulling out his mail. He plops backwards into the floor so that he’s lying down on their carpet, which is in dire need of a vacuum job.

Then he opens his sister’s envelope and pulls out the card. It’s got several dogs, all wearing Christmas sweaters and reindeer antlers. And across the bottom it says ‘Happy Howlidays!’ Lance smiles. As he opens the card, a ten dollar bill falls out into his lap and he reads the note she’d left inside. And he almost cries.

_Fuck_ , he misses her a lot. She’d moved to New York in February and he hasn’t seen her in person since. They Facetime at least once every few days. Lance pulls himself out of the floor to go hang the card on the refrigerator. Once he’s found a magnet to stick it up with, he gets himself a juice box from the fridge. He jams the straw in and takes a long sup.

Hunk comes out of his room, rubbing his hands together, “cookie time.” He grins. Lance sets down his drink.

“Hunk, buddy. I gotta show you something.” Lance says. Hunk raises a brow.

“Huh? What is it?” He asks, confused. Lance crouches down next to their cart.

“Are you ready for this?” Lance asks before spinning the tri-wheel. Hunk’s eyes bulge.

“WHAT?” He asks loudly, bending down to check out the newly functioning wheel. “How? What?”

“I don’t know. I saw this little dude here,” Lance points to the switch, “and I pushed it down and now they work.”

“Oh my God.” Hunk groans. “I see that every time we use this thing. I just thought it was made that way.”

“You never thought to push it?” Lance asks.

“No. Erg, damn. That’s so dumb.” Hunk says, covering his face with his hand. Lance laughs.

“Let’s go try it real quick.” He proposes.

“Yeah, okay. Wait, I _just_ changed.” Hunk gestures to his pajamas. AKA, a T-shirt and StarWars pants. And some fuzzy socks. Of course.

“Who cares? It’s not like you’re naked.” Lance points out. Hunk nods.

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go.” Hunk says. Lance grabs the cart and he and Hunk go back out to the stairwell to test their cart. Hunk pushes open the door and Lance takes the cart down the steps a bit, then he turns to go back up. The cart actually comes with him! Instead of getting stuck on the stair.

“OMG!” Hunk squeaks. “It really works.”

“Heck yeah,” Lance says. He pulls it up the rest of the way, it comes easily. “Dang, I like it this way.” He laughs.

“Okay, well, let’s go back now before someone sees me in my jammies,” Hunk says, checking the hall for people.

“Alrighty.” Lance replies, following his friend back to their apartment.

“I can’t believe we’ve had it like, half a year and just figured it out.” Hunk says, shutting the door behind him.

“I know. It’s ridiculous.” Lance replies. He rolls the cart into the corner of the kitchen where it lives and hops onto a stool to finish his juice. “So, where are the instructions?”

“On my phone. I meant to print it, but I forgot.” Hunk says, washing his hands at the kitchen sink. He pulls out his phone. “Well, that kind of defeats the purpose of washing my hands…” He says with a sigh. “Oh well.” He skims the recipe and turns to preheat the oven.

Lance spins their biggest mixing bowl, “let’s do it!” Hunk stops the bowl with his hand.

“Yeah, cookie time.” Hunk slides a pair of scissors towards Lance and grabs a smaller mixing bowl from the cabinet before looking back to his phone. “Can you cut stuff open? And oh, can you cut the parchment paper so it fits on the things?” Hunk gestures to the cookie trays.

“Yep, sure.” Lance picks up the scissors and does his job. He pauses to watch Hunk dump some butter into his bowl and shove it into the microwave.

\--

Lance watches Hunk start measuring out different quantities of… well, everything. And he dumps each thing in the bowl. But, their biggest bowl is starting to look full…

“Uh, buddy? How many is this gonna make?” He asks as Hunk dumps in another cup of flour.

“Oh, I tripled the recipe. So it should make about thirty-six.” Hunk answers.

“How many more cups of flour do you need?” Lance asks.

“Uh, like two more.” Hunk replies, leveling off another cup. _Does that look right to him?_ Lance grabs Hunk’s phone from the counter. It’s pulled up to a cookie recipe. He’s definitely tripled it though, the amounts on this page seem relatively normal. Lance scrolls up the page a bit. And then, he sees the yield. His eyes widen.

“Uh… Hunk?” Lance starts.

“Yeah?” Hunk pauses for a split second before pouring his wet ingredients into the bowl.

“This recipe makes thirty cookies.” Lance says. Hunk shrugs and plucks a wooden spoon from their spoon jar.

“Cool. Three extra.” He says, smiling. Lance waves his hand.

“No, no, no. No. Not thirteen. _Thirty._ Three- Oh. Thirty.” Lance says. Hunk stops stirring and his face goes blank. He drops the spoon and dusts his hands off on his shirt before grabbing his phone away from Lance to see for himself. His dark eyes scan the page and his mouth drops open.

“What? No.” He whines. “Ninety?” He whisper-shouts. Hunk looks Lance in the eye. ‘Ninety?’ He mouths, pointing at the bowl. He sets his phone down and runs his hand through his hair.

“What are we going to do with ninety cookies? Thirty-six was already gonna be a lot.” Hunk says, clearly in distress. “How did I mess that up? I didn’t even look at the yield until now. I just thought ay, six cups of flour makes perfect sense for three dozen cookies. Oh my God.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Buddy, hey. Earth to Hunk.” Lance says, waving. “It’ll be alright, man. We’ll do something with them.”

“We can’t keep almost a hundred cookies, like… we’d get so sick.” Hunk says.

“Well… we could like… Give them away?” Lance suggests.

“To random people on the street?” Hunk asks.

“Neighbors?” Lance offers.

“We don’t know anyone who lives in this building.” Hunk says. “That would be so awkward.”

“You worry about the baking. I can deliver them when the time comes.” Lance says. Lance has never been shy. Never. Even as a little kid, he had zero problem going up to people he didn’t know and start talking to them. His parents finally instilled in him that not everyone was nice and that he shouldn’t do that. But, hey, he’s fucking twenty one years old dammit. He can talk to whatever strangers he wants to.

“Okay, so… It’s definitely going to take all night to bake all these.” Hunk says. “And we only have three pans. This sucks.”

“Well, let’s get cracking then. Tell me what to do.” Lance says, rolling up his sleeves.

\--

The first couple batches of cookies are out of the oven and Lance has been assigned the task of packaging them up in Ziploc bags.

“How many should I put in each bag?” Lance asks. Hunk thinks for a second.

“Uh… How many will fit?”

“I’ll see.” Lance answers. After a few seconds of cramming, ahem, carefully placing cookies in the bag, he finds the answer. “Seems like six.”

“Cool. That many then.” Hunk says, sliding a pan into the oven.

“Should I write something on the bag or something?” Lance asks.

“You mean like, ‘Merry Christmas from Hunk and Lance?’ Yeah, I think that’d be cool. I’ll go get you a marker.” Hunk says. He goes into the living room to rummage through his backpack for his pencil bag. Then he zips his bag back up and brings Lance a green Sharpie.

“Thank you.” Lance says. He uncaps the marker and starts to scribble down their message. He stops after the first word though. “But… shouldn’t we put happy holidays? Or something?”

“Oh. That’s true. Do that instead.” Hunk says from across the counter. Lance nods and continues writing. It’s not the best thing he could’ve come up with, but he wasn’t going to waste a bag because of one lousy word. Regardless, he writes the same thing on each one, just so they match.

Once he’s made a few bags, he gets ready to start taking them around to neighbors. He pulls on his shoes, just so he won’t seem like a creep. And slips his phone into his jeans pocket. Then he loads up a few bags.

“I’m gonna go now. Can you handle the bakery on your own?” Lance asks, smiling.

“Yeah, I’ve got this end, dude. Good luck.” Hunk says. And with that, Lance opens the door and starts off on his journey of delivering unwanted cookies to strangers.

\--

Meanwhile, two doors down from Lance’s apartment, Keith Kogane had been watching his favorite childhood Christmas movie when his brother had gotten home with a tree for him to help put up. He’d reluctantly paused it and gotten up to help. But when they’d opened the box and pulled the artificial tree out, they found that it had come with no stand. And ever since that point, he’d been sitting at their dining table watching Shiro try (and fail) to balance it against something.

Keith groans, “Shiro, it’s never going to stand up without a stand! That’s why they call it a _stand_.” He says as his brother tries balancing it against the wall. The older man pulls his hands away slowly, as if to persuade the green plastic mess to stay. It stands upright for several seconds, then topples over unceremoniously to the floor.

“I told you. You should just take it back to Walmart and get a different one.” Keith says.

“They might not take it back. Besides,” Shiro says, hefting it up to lean it against the wall once again, “this was the last one.” And again, the fake tree plummets to the ground with an oddly satisfying fwooph sound.

“Damn, I give up.” Shiro says. He throws his hands up, then pinches the bridge of his scarred nose, exhaling slowly. “Sorry for yelling.”

“It’s okay,” Keith replies, slightly amused. Shiro hadn’t even been yelling. He’d barely raised his voice, but that’s all it takes to show that Shiro is frustrated.

“I just don’t get it. Why would they sell the tree separate from the stand and not tell me? That’s kind of important to have.” Shiro says, squatting down to examine the box. Keith shrugs, making the ‘I don’t know” sound.

“It says that a tree stand is included.” Shiro mumbles. “Then where the heck is it?”

“They probably made a mistake and left it out or something. It’s not a big deal, Shiro. We don’t even need a tree. We’re not kids.” Keith says, pushing a box of red and gold ornaments across the table away from him.

“I know you don’t care that much about Christmas, but it’s kind of nice to decorate I think. Unless you happen to purchase a faulty tree,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go find something less ‘I really need to grade finals, but at this point I really don’t give a damn.’ I mean, I’m going to end up with three hundred million emails from students, but like… Ugh.” Shiro sighs, Keith laughs, and his brother retreats to his room to change out of his teacher costume.

“Mmkay.” Keith says, flopping onto the couch. He picks up his phone to see if his chemistry professor had finally updated his grade. Then, Keith’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he looks towards his front door. _Was that a knock?_

“Shiro, are you expecting anyone?” Keith asks.

“Uh, no.” The other man answers from behind his bedroom door. “Why?”

“I think someone knocked?” Keith says, unsure if he’d actually heard a noise. Then he hears it again.

“Well, could you get off your ass and answer it?” Shiro asks. Keith rolls back off the couch to his feet and pads across the floor. He unlocks the door and pulls it open. On the other side stands a man with an armful of plastic baggies.

“Hello,” the man starts with a smile, then his eyes go wide and his face starts to turn red. Keith starts to raise a brow and ask what he needs, but then the man in question tosses a bag at Keith’s chest, “these are for you!” Keith barely catches the bag before it hits the ground and by the time he looks up to ask ‘hey, what the hell dude?’ the blue-eyed man is gone.

Keith shuts his door and starts to inspect the bag, which seems to be filled with chocolate chip cookies. He turns the warm package over in his hands and written on the baggie in Sharpie is: **‘Merry whatever, from Lance N Hunk!** ’ Keith hears Shiro exiting his room and turns to show him the bag.

“Uh, someone… brought cookies?” Keith says.

“Who?” Shiro asks. He raises his brow and approaches. Keith hands the bag to him.

“I dunno who it was. Some guy.” Keith says.

“Huh. From Lance N Hunk…” Shiro reads the note.

“Weird right?” Keith asks, weary of random treats that were given to him by a stranger.

“These look good.” Shiro says, unzipping the bag. Keith’s mouth drops open.

“You’re gonna eat them? What if they’re poisoned or something?” He asks. Shiro has already pulled out a cookie.

“Then I’ll eat them all.” Shiro laughs dryly. Keith can see the final exams dancing around in his brother’s head. Keith rolls his eyes and flops back onto the couch where he’d been earlier. “Just for future reference, ya know, in case I start bleeding from the mouth or something, who brought them?” Shiro asks.

“I told you. I don’t know who he was. One of our neighbors I guess.” Keith shrugs, which is kinda hard to do whilst laying down.

“Did he look like a serial killer?” Shiro asks.

“He looked like a cute guy.” Keith says before he can stop himself.

“Ooh. A cute mysterious guy brought you a gift. Keith, you might just be a main character in a shoujo manga.” Shiro teases, finally popping the cookie into his mouth.

“Shut up, Takashi. If that’s true, then you’re a background character. So suck it.” Keith says, turning to face away from his friend.

“Hah. I can deal with that, as long as I get to keep these. They’re so good.” He says. “Ya want one? Wait, actually. These definitely wouldn’t be good for you. There’s a lot of chocolate.”

“Damn it.” Keith says. “They look fluffy and delicious, too.” Keith says. Damn his chocolate allergy. Or ‘chocolate sensitivity.’ He can barely look at the stuff without breaking out and getting an upset stomach.

“Maybe next time your mysterious hot guy will bring sugar cookies.” Shiro laughs, inhaling another cookie.

“Screw you,” Keith laughs, tossing a throw pillow at his brother.

\--

“Holy shit, Hunk,” Lance pauses to catch his breath and to shut the door behind him, leaning against it. “I just met the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Hunk raises an eyebrow as he slides his hand into a gingerbread man shaped oven mitt.

“So… you ran back to the apartment?” Hunk asks. Lance nods, sliding into a stool at the bar.

“I didn’t know what to dooooo. He was so prettyyyy.” Lance whines. “Oh my God. Hunk. He’s a Christmas angel. We’re living two doors down from an angel!” Lance explains.

“Well… Did you get his name?” Hunk asks.

“Nope. I kind of threw cookies in his face and ran away.” Lance admits. “I’m so dumb!” He drops his head to the counter with a thud. “Ow.” Hunk sets a piping hot pan of even more cookies on top of the stove to cool.

“No you aren’t. You just panicked in front of a cute person. It happens to everyone. You know what’s stupid? Tripling a recipe for thirty cookies by accident.” Hunk says. He picks up their other tray—full of cookie dough balls— and shoves it into the oven. He sets the timer and drops the mitt to the counter.

“I’m glad that the cookie thing happened though. Like… I’d never have witnessed an angel if we hadn’t screwed up.” Lance says, swooning over a man he doesn’t even know.

“Do you know what apartment he was at?” Hunk asks, joining Lance on the other side of the counter, pulling up a stool. Lance thinks for a second.

“Yeah, 404. Two doors down on the same side as us.” Lance says.

“Then go ask him out sometime.” Hunk suggests. Lance’s eyes widen.

“To his face?”

“No, to his ass. Yeah, dude. You’ve gotta ask him out. The worst that can happen is him saying no.” Hunk says, his innate mother hen tendencies rising. Lance feels like a kid on a 90’s afterschool sitcom. The kind where the emotional music comes on and some shitty advice is given by the parent.

No, he totally doesn’t mean _Full House_.

Okay, yes he does.

“That’s my point.” Lance says.

“Oh… So, are you up to throwing more cookies in random people’s faces? Or should I just find some Tupperware for all these?” Hunk asks.

“Tupperware.” Lance says.

“Righty-roo, I’ll text Pidge. She’ll take some for sure.” Hunk says, opening a cabinet door. Lance laughs at the reference to Friends and watches his friend pull out a container with a purple lid. He touches the corner of one cookie and decides to wait before moving them. “Uh, can you do me a favor real quick?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you like… pick up this parchment and go sit it somewhere?” Hunk asks.

“With the cookies on it? Uh, sure.” Lance says, standing up. Hunk lifts up the edges of the paper with the spatula and Lance grabs it, lifting it carefully to keep the cookies from sliding around and sits it on the counter.

“Thank you.” Hunk says, starting to make more balls of out the dough.

“Welcome.” Lance replies. He opens the fridge and pulls out the milk. Then grabs a glass from the cupboard.

“I don’t care how many you eat, really, I don’t, but don’t make yourself sick.” Hunk says, a mother hen indeed.

“Yah, alright.” Lance pours himself some milk and grabs a cookie.

\--

After two hours of Hunk making the argument that he should go for it, Lance decides he _will_ ask the black haired angel out. In all honesty, Lance can’t really remember exactly what he looked like. His bad. But, he knows that at the time, he was gorgeous, so he can’t just sit around and do nothing. Especially when he has the opportunity to actually introduce himself and maybe hear his voice?

He’ll figure out what to do from there. If he gets that far.

Now, he and Hunk are sitting in the floor of the living room, wrapping some gifts for their family members, and discussing how he’s going to convince this boy to go on a date with him. Then the door opens. Lance jerks his head around to see Pidge waltz in, bag slung over her shoulder. The boys give her a look.

“I heard there were cookies.” Pidge says, dropping her bag in front of the door and making her way into the kitchen to pilfer the container of cookies.

“Yeah, I know. I texted you. How did you get in? You didn’t even buzz us.” Hunk says. Pidge gives him a look, then looks away.

“Oh please, I don’t need to buzz you.” She answers simply, taking out the milk for herself. She pours a cupful and brings it and the cookies over to where the boys are sitting. She perches on the couch arm and pops the top of box. Lance finishes taping up the gift he’d gotten for his brother and sticks a ridiculously ornate bow on top.

“Well, that’s a terrifying thing to hear.” Lance says, leaning back to stretch his arms.

“Oh, what’d get me?” Pidge asks, peering at the mound of crap they’d yet to start wrapping.

“Yours, if you must know, has been wrapped and hidden. You aren’t gonna find it either.” Lance says triumphantly.

“We’ll see.” Katie pauses long enough to inhale a cookie. “So, who’s this cute boy I’ve been informed about?”

“Hunk.” Lance says, giving him a look of betrayal.

“I didn’t say anything.” Hunk says.

“Of course you did, you gossiper.” Lance says, not at all surprised. “He’s a neighbor. Really pretty. Black hair. Wearing a sweater with a dog on it.”

“Interesting.”

\--

Sometime before midnight, the group decides that the least awkward way to ask out a stranger in your apartment building is by a note. That way, if they reject you, at least it won’t be to your face. They can write you a note back, or just throw it away and pretend it never happened. So, now Lance is sitting at the dining table, trying to think of something really charming and clever to write.

But so far all he has is: **You’re really cute.** Which is accurate, but… it probably won’t get the point across on its own. So, Pidge and Hunk are throwing out random things to say. Most of Pidge’s are inappropriate. And Lance is just trying to think. Hunk excuses himself from their super important meeting to go to the bathroom.

“Just write, ‘hey, I like your face. Here’s my number.’” Pidge suggests. Lance balls up the paper and tosses it towards the garbage.

“That’s so lame.” Lance says, tapping his pen against the tabletop.

“Well, that’s all I’ve got.” Pidge says, shrugging. She gets up to go to the kitchen. Lance watches her refill her glass and grab a couple more cookies.

“I thought Hunk banned you from the cookies?” Lance says, laughing as she crams another cookie into her mouth and downs her milk.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I mean, nothing goes together like milk and cookies.” She says, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

“That’s it!” Lance says softly. He scribbles something down and signs the bottom. Hunk comes forward.

“What’s it?” He asks, looking at Katie, who is suspiciously close to the cookie container. Lance grins and passes the sheet of paper across the table for Hunk to read it.

“Oh my God.” Hunk says, giggling.

“What?” Lance asks.

“It’s cute.” Hunk replies, smiling.

“Would you go out with me?”

“Based on this note alone? Yeah, I’d go on at least one date with someone who sent me this.” Hunk says. Pidge comes over to read over Hunk’s shoulder.

“A pun? Nice.” She gives a thumbs up before flopping down into her chair.

“Now, what do I do with it? Do I slip it under the door? Put it in the mailbox? What?” Lance asks, nervously drumming his fingers against his thigh.

“I say tape it to the door.” Pidge says.

“You think so?” Lance asks.

“Yeah, it’s faster. Like, putting it under the door is… kinda weird. And in the mail might take a long time for him to get. Because he might not check his mail every day. I know I don’t.” Pidge says.

“True.” Hunk adds on, “plus we’ve got a bunch of tape from wrapping.” He points to their gift wrapping area. “God, we’ve still got a lot to go.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll do it. I think I’ll do it right now.” Lance says, pushing his chair back.

“Good luck,” Pidge wishes him. Lance smiles and grabs a roll of tape. He crosses the floor and opens his door, tiptoeing quietly down the hall. Lance folds the sheet of paper in half and pulls off one piece of tape to secure it to the door at eye level. As soon as it’s stuck on, he tears down the hall back to where he’d come from.

“I did it!” He says to his friends.

“Heck yeah!” Hunk says.

“Nice,” Pidge says.

“I hope he likes it.” Lance says.

\--

Keith confirms his order and looks over to Shiro, who has been grading final exams for the past hour and a half. He starts to click his pen several times in quick succession, a sign that he just read a really stupid answer. He groans and mumbles something that Keith can’t hear, Keith laughs. Shiro finally stops clicking his pen and looks up. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing at all.” Keith says. “I ordered the pizza.”

“Nice.” Shiro answers.

“So… what’s the worst score so far?” Keith asks. Shiro gives him a look.

“You don’t want to know,” he sighs.

“Yeah, I really do,” Keith says, standing up to stretch and come sit next to his brother. Shiro shuffles through his papers, finding the one he wants to show Keith.

“Are you ready for this?” Shiro asks. Keith taps a drum roll on the edge of the table. “The lowest score, so far, is a fifty-nine.”

“Fifty-nine?!” Keith screeches.

“Yeah. I- I don’t understand it. I’m a good teacher right? I mean, you took my class last semester and you did really well.” Shiro says, exasperated. He runs a hand through his floof of hair.

“Yeah, you were really good. Are they just stupid?” Keith asks, he takes the paper out of Shiro’s hand and scans the page.

“They’re so stupid. And half of them just don’t show up to class or they sleep when they get there. And the last week of class, right before finals, the majority of the class was begging me to get them extra credit opportunities. Which I didn’t. That’s probably really mean of me, but damn.” Shiro says, dropping his pen.

“I don’t think it is,” Keith starts, “I mean… if they don’t do the regular work, why should you have to grade extra stuff to raise their grades?”

“Exactly! It drives me crazy.” Shiro releases a deep breath.

“Haha, you should start telling your students that they’re the reason for your white hair.” Keith laughs.

“Oh I do.” Shiro says. “So, you ordered the pizza. What kind?”

“One pineapple and one… everything,” Keith says.

“Awesome.” Shiro says. “How long is it?”

“Half an hour. Enough time for you to grade a few more papers.” Keith says, patting his shoulder.

“But they’re so stupid. I should just give them all Bs.” He laughs dryly, staring into space. “Oh, I wish I could.” Keith laughs and goes back to his laptop.

\--

Later on, there’s a knock on the door. _Déjà vu._ Keith stands and stretches his back before he goes to the door. He grabs Shiro’s wallet off the table by the door and pulls out a couple bills. Then he opens the door. A pizza person hands him their food and Keith gives them the amount due, plus ten bucks.

“Thanks dude,” they say.

“No problem. Happy Holidays.” Keith smiles and is about to close the door, when he notices a piece of paper. He plucks it from the door and spins around to sit the pizza on the table.

“Mm, pizza.” Shiro says, scooting back in his chair.

“Finish the paper you’re on first.” Keith says.

“Fine.” Shiro groans. Keith flips open the note he’d found on the door.

**Hey,**

**I’m the guy who threw cookies in your face. Uh, sorry about that. I hope you like them.**

**I think we could go together like milk and cookies… ;)**

**Let me know what you think?**

  * **Lance from 401**



Keith smiles, _so that guy was Lance. Seemed like a hunk to me. Oh my God. Keith, what are you saying? I’ll write a thank you note later._ Shiro starts to stand up again and Keith drops the note onto the table and goes to get dinner.

\--

“Hey Lance,” Hunk says, entering the apartment. He closes the door and slides a piece of paper onto the counter. He’d found it on the door. _It has to be from the cookie guy._ Hunk thinks, kicking off his shoes. He starts to sit down on the couch and finish a book he’d been reading, but the note calls his name. He eyes it from across the room and before he can stop himself, he’s opened the letter and read the entire thing twice, analyzing every line.

**Uh, hi Lance,**

**Thanks for the cookies. My roommate liked them a lot. I’m kinda allergic to chocolate though. :(**

**And I’m lactose intolerant… Haha.**

**And my name is Keith, by the way.**

**-Keith from 404**

Hunk knits his brows together and reads it one more time. _This boy… can’t have cookies or milk? That suckkkksss._ He realizes that maybe he shouldn’t have read a note left for his roommate from a strange man… and promptly hangs it back on the door where he’d found it.

And he goes ahead and locks the door behind him to head to the store. He’s gotta make some chocolate-less…. _Lactose-less? Is that a thing?_ cookies. He’s gonna get Lance a date with this guy. Somehow.

\--

When Lance gets home from work, the first thing he notices is the half sheet of notebook paper taped to his door.

“Holy shit!” He whispers to himself. His face stretches into a wide grin and his heart starts thudding against his ribcage. He’d thought that the note method wouldn’t make his anxiety spike like this, but here he is. Starting to sweat and everything. He snatches the note and rushes inside to read it, pulling off his scarf to toss it on the couch. _Please think I’m cute._ He unfolds the note and his smile rapidly becomes a frown.

“Lactose intol—” He reads. _He doesn’t like me._ And his heart shatters and hits the floor. “Oh.” He swallows thickly, not allowing himself to get overly upset. He always falls way too fast. Hell, one look at a person and he wants to fall in love with them. When he was a teenager, his mother used to tell him he was in love with the idea of being in love.

And that’s true. But shit, as devoted as he would be to a partner, he’s never had much luck in the dating department. His flirting is on point, he knows that. He can make a girl blush and a boy turn his head with one line. But nothing ever sticks. He’s gone on a dozen first dates that didn’t lead to anything but a broken heart and a couple twenties being removed from his wallet.

He sighs sadly and balls up the note. _Keith. Your penmanship is really weird anyway._ He tosses it at the trash and misses. _Yep, seems about right._ He’ll pick it up later. He’s too sad to take three steps and bend down to pick it up. Instead he lays down on the couch and flicks on the TV.

\--

When Hunk gets back from his emergency ingredient run, he notices that Lance is acting upset. But he doesn’t want to ask… Sometimes the depression fairy just shits on your day. And that’s probably it. And by the time he’s mixed up the batter, Lance has fallen asleep on the couch. Hunk chuckles at his friend’s soft snoring and starts spooning the mixture onto a tray.

These butter cookies are amazing. His mom used to make them when he was a kid. And he’s had the recipe memorized since he could read. _This Keith boy is gonna love these._ Hunk hasn’t seen this guy yet. Or maybe he’s walked past him two hundred times in the hall without realizing it, but… Lance clearly saw something he liked and Hunk is gonna help them get together.

What he’s doing could be called meddling… By some people, but none of those people are here. Hunk laughs softly to himself as he opens the oven. _Meddling. Huh. Playing matchmaker maybe, but not meddling._

\--

Shiro was in the middle of grading finals when he found himself nodding off. And when he went to make himself some coffee, he remembers that they’d run out that morning. So, he’d gone to the store to buy some. When he gets back, he finds a plastic grocery bag hanging on his doorknob.

“Well, that’s… creepy.” Shiro says, looking at the gray bag. _Fuck’s sake, one of my students found out where I live and left something gross! Who would’ve done that? Well, anyone who got angry about me not letting them earn bonus points, maybe. Wait… how would they have gotten in?_ He picks it up by the handle and takes it inside.

He sits down his cup— when he’d walked past Starbucks, he couldn’t resist. Partially because he was afraid of falling asleep in the store. And drops the bag with the can of coffee on the floor, “damn.” He picks it back up and places it on the counter.

Then he unties the bag. Expecting… well, he doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a bundle of cookies in a Ziploc bag. With a note on top. He flips it up.

**Hi Keith,**

**Sorry that you’re allergic to chocolate. :( Don’t worry though, these are chocolate free! And they’re really good. If I do say so myself. :)**

**Text me sometime? XXX-XXX-XXXX**

**-Lance**

_How did he find out about Keith’s allergy?_ Shiro wonders as he tosses his keys towards their entry table. Then he sees a piece of paper. _Are these two passing notes? God, I’m such a fucking teacher._ He sighs and opens the newly discovered note. _Flirting? And Keith didn’t get flustered? When did he get this? Well, clearly long enough for someone to make cookies…_

Shiro looks over at his brother, who is napping on the couch with a documentary on in the background. He laughs. And goes to wake him up. “Keith,” he says, gently rocking his shoulder.

“What?” Keith says abruptly, jolting awake to sit up.

“Whoa.” Shiro says. “It’s alright. Uh, you got a creepy package.”

“Huh,” Keith asks, yawning. Shiro points to the bag on the counter.

“Your boyfriend sent you more cookies,” Shiro singsongs.

“Oh shut up,” Keith says.

“No he really did.” Shiro says. Keith’s eyes light up and he races over to the package. Shiro laughs.

\--

Keith plops into a stool and pulls the bag towards him. He reads the note and smiles. “That was really nice of him.” He says, unsealing the bag to pull a cookie out. He bites into it. “Mmm.”

“Can I have one?” Shiro asks. Keith gives him a look.

“One, you get to have the chocolate ones,” Keith says. Shiro pulls one out for himself. He takes a bite.

“So, are you gonna text him?” Shiro asks.

“I mean, maybe.” Keith says.

“I thought you’d be more excited that a cute guy likes you,” Shiro shrugs.

“What do you mean?” Keith asks, finishing off his cookie.

“Well, you said he was cute. And he apparently thinks you’re cute. And he basically asked you out and you seem really indifferent.” Shiro says, pulling his cookie into pieces. “I mean the only thing you know about him is that he can bake. But I think that’s pretty—”

“Wait!” Keith asks, cutting him off. “You think he wants to go out with me?”

“Well, yeah. I kinda found the other note on the table.” Shiro says. _Was there something written on the back?_ “You did see it right?”

“Yes, I saw it.” Keith says. He picks up the original note and rereads it.

“Well, there’s a cheesy pick up line on it.” Shiro says. “And he asked you to text him.” Keith’s mouth drops open.

“Wait a second. Cute boy Lance who makes cookies likes me?” He asks.

“What did you think that line about cookies and milk meant?” Shiro asks back.

“Oh my GOD.” Keith says. “I told him I was lactose intolerant. I’m so stupid. What the fuck?”

Shiro laughs, “no. You’re not stupid. You’re just… kind of oblivious.”

“What should I do?” Keith asks. Shiro leans away.

“Text him. Text cute boy Lance! Quickly.” He says. And he laughs himself silly when Keith dives over the couch to get to his cellphone.

“Stop laughing and read me the number, asshole.” Keith says, glaring at his friend.

\--

Lance wakes up feeling a little better about the rejection. His nap had erased it from his mind. He yawns and stands up to go get a bottle of water. _It smells like cookies in here._

“Hunk?” Lance asks the otherwise empty apartment. It’s not like Lance to sleep through the noise of baking. “Hunk?” He shrugs. _Hunk must not be back from Shay’s yet. Oh shit, did I leave a candle lit? I don’t think… Nah, I didn’t._ He shakes his head. And opens the fridge.

When he bends down to pull open the bottom drawer where they keep the water, he sees the note balled up on the floor. _Aw man._ He sighs and kicks it away from him. He needs to text Hunk to make sure he’s alright.

“Where is my phone? Where, where is my phone?” He says, scanning the room to see where he’d left it. He spots it on the floor next to the couch. He strolls over and picks it up. It’s dead. “Dang.” He finds his charger in his room and plugs it in, sitting down in the chair. He turns on his phone and he has a new message from an unknown number.

He raises a brow and opens it.

<Unknown 9:29> Um. Hi. This is Keith. From 401. I think I read your note wrong before? And uh, wanted to see if you meant that you wanted to go out with me sometime? If not, sorry for bothering you. Have a good night. And thanks for the cookies.

Lance’s eyes widen. _Holy shit. Wait a sec, how did he get my number? I don’t care. Holy shit. Fuck._ He opens his chat with Hunk and sends several rapid fire messages about the text. But as soon as he sends the last one, the door opens and Hunk comes inside. “Hunk! Hunk, dude! Guess who messaged me!” Lance says excitedly. Hunk raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, who?” He asks with a weird smile on his face.

“Hot Keith! Hot Keith messaged me. He said something about reading the note wrong?” Lance says, opening the message and holding it out for Hunk to read.

“Hmm. That’s great buddy!” Hunk says, clapping a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Text him back!”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Lance starts, trying to contain the buzzing energy shooting through him. “What should I say?” He asks, looking to Hunk for guidance.

“Just ask if he’s free sometime. And then make some plans. Lance, you’ve made dates before.” Hunk reminds him.

“I know. I just. It’s usually face to face. And I can read their emotion and go off that. I can’t do that through text.” Lance says, sitting down.

“True.” Hunk says, sitting on the couch next to him. “But I’m sure it’ll be fine. He messaged you first. So, he kind of is the one asking you out.”

“Holy crap.” Lance thinks for a minute and starts typing. He comes up with something kind of good and checks for Hunk’s seal of approval before sending it.

\--

Keith had been getting worried about the text he’d sent. It had been an hour since he sent it and no reply. And he knows that it’s completely plausible that the other man goes to bed at a reasonable hour, but he can’t help but think he’d somehow messed up. He clicks through the channels, trying to find something to watch when his phone vibrates. He stops breathing for a second and he looks over at the lit up screen.

“Ooh.” Shiro says from the dining table. He turns around in his chair and makes a kissy sound. “What did he say?”

“Shut up and grade!” Keith says, reaching for his phone.

<Unknown 10:27> Yeah that’s what I meant. I glad you messaged me. Are you free tomorrow night?

Keith gasps.

“What?” Shiro asks, invested in the rom-com playing out in front of him.

“He asked if I’m free tomorrow.” Keith says. “What do I say?”

“Are you free tomorrow?” Shiro asks.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“There ya go. Just tell him you’re free.” Shiro says.

“Okay, yeah.” Keith types it out and sends it quickly before he changes his mind.

<Keith 10:29> Yeah, I’m free.  
<Lance 10:31> Can I pick you up at say, uh, 7:30ish or so?  
<Keith 10:32> Yeah. That sounds good.  
<Lance 10:33> Good. Dress warm it’s supposed to be cold. :) See you then.  
<Keith 10:34> Okay. Good night.

\--

Lance had been in a panic all day. What had gotten into him last night? He made a date with a really pretty boy and hadn’t even thought about what they could do on a date. _Well, there’s always going to a restaurant. But what restaurant?_

_I like all kinds of different foods. But he might not like the things I do. We could decide tonight. But I made it sound like I had actual plans I think._ Lance rereads the messages he’d sent. _Yep, it sounds like I made plans._

“Hunk, what’s Shay’s favorite restaurant?” Lance asks his friend across the room.

“Uh, The Sunflower over on Walnut Drive off 3rd Street.” Hunk says.

“Is it exspensive?” Lance asks.

“Not too bad. And it’s pretty good. She likes it a lot because it’s vegetarian. But, they like… turn cauliflower into chicken. Like it tastes really good. But there’s no meat at all.” Hunk says.

“Oh. Okay.” Lance says. “I don’t know if he’d like that though.”

“True. Just ask him what he likes.” Hunk suggests.

“I would, but I kind of made it seem like I made plans already.” Lance says.

“Oh. Just take him to Olive Garden,” Hunk says with a chuckle.

“I might actually.” Lance says. Hunk gives him a look. “What? It’s not that bad!”

“It’s not great. Well, it’s okay for a first date I guess.” Hunk replies.

“I need to find a cool outfit to wear. It’s hard because it’s cold as fuck and I hate covering up my beautiful body.” Lance says, with a grin. Hunk laughs.

“Okay Romeo, go pretty up.” He says.

\--

Lance shows Hunk several outfit choices and finally decides on one, a blue baseball tee and a pair of nice jeans. He’ll have to cover it with his huge green jacket, so he could actually wear a potato sack and it wouldn’t matter too much. But these jeans make his flat ass look good, so…

When seven o’clock rolls around, he’s buzzing like crazy. He makes sure he has his phone and his wallet and his keys at least six times. And at 7:22, he leaves his apartment and Hunk wishes him good luck. At 7:24, he’s standing in front of Keith’s door. He waits a few seconds and finally knocks softly.

“Just a second!” He hears from inside. Keith’s voice sounds deeper than he thought it’d be. A few seconds later, the door opens and an unfamiliar man invites him inside.

“Hi, I’m Shiro. Keith’s brother.” He says with a smile. “Come on in. He’s still getting ready.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lance says, he steps inside and looks around the apartment. It’s weird being inside a copy of his house. Everything is laid out the same, except for the furniture. Lance takes note of their Christmas tree, that is currently wedged between the wall and a table.

“Make yourself at home, sit wherever you like.” Shiro says, unpausing a video game. He finishes a race in 2nd place. He notices Lance looking.

“You wanna play?” He asks.

“Uh, sure.” Lance says.

“Take off your coat and stay a while,” Shiro says, passing Lance a controller.

“Thanks.”

“Which track would you like to play?”

“Any is fine,” Lance says, shrugging out of his jacket. Shiro selects a track and they jump into a race and Lance’s nerves calm down as he focuses on kicking his neighbor’s ass.

\--

Keith is still in his room looking at clothes when Lance arrives. He hears Shiro answer the door and invite his date inside. And then he offers to play a video game with him. He finally finds a black sweater to wear. _But now I’m wearing all black. That’s kinda weird, right? Well, the first time he saw me I was wearing my pajamas…_ He sighs and checks himself out in the mirror. _I do look pretty good though._

He practices his smile a couple times. And decides on showing his teeth just a bit, but not a fully open smile, then he opens his door. He steps out into his apartment and sees his date kicking his brother’s ass at his favorite racing game.

“What the hell, dude?” Shiro says, finishing in fifth place. “I thought you said you’ve never played this game.”

“I haven’t, but I love racing games. And I’m really competitive,” he says, flashing a smile. Then he notices Keith. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Keith says.

“You look great.” Lance says, standing up.

“Thanks. So do you.” Keith answers.

“Thanks. So, I know that I, seemed like I’d made plans, but… I really don’t. Because I didn’t know what kind of food you’d like. And I didn’t want to mess up on the first date and stuff.” Lance explains. Keith nods.

“That’s fine. We can go anywhere. I don’t care.” Keith says.

“If you two wanna stay here, I’ll go to my boyfriend’s.” Shiro offers.

“No, no. You don’t have to leave.” Lance says. “I was thinking maybe a movie? Or something? Is there anything you’d like to see?”

Keith thinks for a second, “I have no idea. I don’t really keep up with movies. But that sounds fun, I haven’t been in years.”

“Oh okay. Good.” Lance smiles, pulling his coat back on. He shakes Shiro’s artificial hand, not that he knows it’s a prosthetic, “nice meeting you dude.”

“You too. Have a good time you guys,” Shiro replies.

\--

Almost three hours later, they come out of the movie giggling about just how stupid it was. They’d chosen a kid’s movie, as the rest seemed boring. Their other options were mostly romantic movies and they just didn’t seem right.

“So,” Lance starts, “you want to go get something to eat?”

“No, I’m fine. Sorry for hogging the popcorn,” Keith says sheepishly.

“You didn’t. It is good though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Keith says, looking at the arcade room of to the side of the theatre’s foyer. Lance smiles.

“Do you wanna go play in there?” He asks.

“Would you mind?” Keith asks.

“No! I love arcade games.” Lance says enthusiastically. Hell, he’d say yes to watching paint dry if he meant he and Keith could hang out longer. He holds the door to the arcade for Keith and they go inside.

They play the racing games, the ones with the huge seats and actual gas pedals. And they play Skee-Ball and a shooter game with the plastic rifles, which Lance fucking _slays_ at. And before they leave, they hop into the photo booth and take several photos. Lance is grateful that it prints two strips each time. He thinks this might actually go somewhere. He doesn’t know where, but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

\--

After they get back to their building, Lance ‘drops Keith off’ at his apartment and goes back into his. He grabs an apple from the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten very much while he was out and now he’s starving. Hunk comes out of the bathroom and Lance tells him every single detail. Hunk squeals with joy when he sees the photo booth strips.

“You guys look so cute!” He says.

“I know!!” Lance says. “It was so fun. He’s so easy to talk to and hang out with. And he’s funny and nice. And I like him so much.”

“Whoa,” Hunk says.

“What?” Lance asks.

“Slow down Romeo. It sounds like you’re about to start writing your vows.” Hunk says.

“I didn’t say anything like that at all.” Lance says. He sighs. “I hope he had a good time too.”

“I’m sure he did. It sounds like you guys had a blast. Ooh. Did you kiss him?!” Hunk asks.

“I… No. I wanted to. But we didn’t.” Lance says.

“Oh. Well, when you do, you’ve gotta tell me all about it.” Hunk says happily.

“Just a detailed play by play of the entire first kiss?” Lance asks.

“Of course,” Hunk answers. Lance laughs. As if he’d accept anything less.

\--

The two boys hang out a lot in the days leading up to Christmas. They go on another couple dates, but for the more part, they just stay in one of their apartments and talk. Or play video games. Or have take-out. Actually, that’s almost every night. But they really hit it off and if Lance hadn’t been in love from day one, he certainly is now. It’s just been only two weeks— yes, two weeks exactly. Lance has been counting the days— but damn. They’re great together.

And it’s not ‘lust.’ Or whatever his grandmother would call being so infatuated with someone. It’s… caring. They’ve kissed a few times, but, it isn’t necessary. It’s like… extra. Just being around Keith is amazing.

But back to them hanging out at each other’s apartments, they watch TV and make some microwave popcorn and it’s a great date. Even with Keith’s brother around, they just hang out. Lance and Shiro have a rivalry with video games. Shiro has yet to win a race or fight or whatever the game entails. And Lance is proud of it. Regardless, Lance had helped stand their Christmas tree upright with big pot full of dirt. It had been a bit of a hassle, but it’s standing by itself. It leans bit, but it made Shiro very happy.

Now the two are sitting next to each other on Lance’s old beat up couch, playing a game of Scrabble against Pidge and Hunk. And kicking their asses. Lance is winning at the moment, but Keith and Hunk are close behind and poor Pidge has been dealt a bad hand from the start, she hasn’t gotten a vowel tile in at least three turns and it’s driving her crazy. Lance watches Keith pull out his phone to check a message.

“Hey you guys, my brother is kind of, uh, bored and alone. Would you mind if he comes over?” Keith asks. “If not, it’s totally fine, I just—”

“Invite him,” Hunk interrupts. “The more the merrier. Just tell him to come in, the door isn’t locked.”

“Thank you,” Keith says, typing out a reply.

“Let’s start a new game so he won’t be left out,” Pidge says, starting to scoop her tiles off her stand. Lance and Hunk both give her looks.

“I don’t think so, pal. He can play with us when we get finished with this game,” Lance says.

“You don’t understand! I have an X, two Vs, and a Q. I can’t make any words. At all,” she pouts.

“Too bad.” Hunk laughs.

“There are only a few tiles left in the bag. This game’s almost over,” Keith says, finishing his turn.

“Yeah, okay,” she says with a sigh. Lance gives his tiles a once over and makes ‘engine’ into ‘engineer’ before collecting the last two tiles from the bag.

By Hunk’s next turn, there’s a knock on the door and Shiro opens it to come inside. He’s loaded down with Chinese food. “I come bearing delicious, unhealthy food.” He says, piling it on the counter. “I’m such a great influence.”

“Food!” Pidge shouts, hopping out of her chair.

“Hi Katie,” Shiro says cheerfully. “Help yourselves guys. I kind of… ordered way too much. And didn’t realize it until the delivery person came.” He makes himself at home and pulls a dining chair up to the coffee table, a takeout box of rice and… shrimp, Lance thinks, in his hand.

“I’ll totally take you up on that man,” Hunk says, going to join Pidge in pilfering through the many different containers.

“How much do we owe you, dude?” Lance asks.

“Pfft. Nothing. Merry whatever,” Shiro says with a wave, referencing Lance’s message from the first time they’d met. Lance smiles and grabs Keith’s hand, just to hold it. His hands are… not freezing cold, but definitely cooler than Lance’s. He leans back against Keith’s shoulder.

After a few minutes, Hunk and Pidge return with whatever they’d wanted and he and Keith go to grab some grub. They eat and finish their game— Lance wins by fourteen points— and start a new one to include Shiro.

\--

Hunk wins the next round, which infuriates Pidge. It had been her turn to win, then within the last few rounds, Hunk had swooped in and wiped the floor with her. “Ugh,” she groans.

“At least you didn’t come in last,” Shiro says. “I’m six years older than all of you.” He mutters, putting his head in his hands. “And a fucking professor.”

“I challenge everyone to a duel!” Pidge says. Everyone looks at her. “On the XBOX,” she finishes.

“We can only do four players,” Hunk says.

“Don’t worry,” Lance says, “Keith and I aren’t playing.” Keith turns to look at Lance.

“We aren’t?”

“No, I kinda wanted to take you somewhere tonight.” Lance smiles sheepishly.

“Ooh,” Pidge and Hunk chorus. Hunk makes a kissy face and Shiro laughs.

“Really?” Keith says, his face turning a lovely shade of pink.

“Yeah,” Lance says, “if you want to.”

“Of course, where are we going?” Keith asks.

“That’s a secret,” Lance smiles.

“Ooh! A secret date!” Pidge teases.

“Shut up and get on with your duel,” Lance says, sticking out his tongue. Keith laughs softly.

“Get bundled up. It’s like ten degrees.” Shiro mothers, sinking onto the couch next to Keith.

“Of course.” Keith says. The two stand and start layering on coats and scarves and gloves. Keith pulls on a hat and Lance grabs his off the ground.

“We’ll be back!” Lance singsongs.

“Have a good time,” Hunk says.

“Bye!” Lance opens the door for Keith and they make their way outside.

\--

They end up in a rich neighborhood, walking down the street with a thermos of hot apple cider and looking at the Christmas lights. It’s beautiful outside, who cares if they get pneumonia? Keith laughs and grabs Lance’s gloved hand with his own to hold.

“Isn’t it pretty?” Lance asks.

“Yeah it really is.” Keith says. “We never really did this sort of thing when I was growing up. Mom was away a lot on business. And dad, well, dad really didn’t care for it. So, I’d just watch the movies and tell myself that I’d decorate for my kids someday.” He finishes with a sigh. Lance uncaps the thermos and pours a cup. He hands it out to Keith.

“Do you still think you will?” Lance asks.

“Decorate for my kids? If I ever find a guy crazy enough to have kids with me, yeah I will.” Keith smiles.

“Crazy enough? What do you mean? You’re perfect.” Lance asks. Keith’s eyes widen, then return to normal.

“I’m glad you think so,” he says nervously. “I’m kind of a wreck though.”

“So am I. So is everyone our age.” Lance says.

“You think so?” Keith asks.

“Of course. Teen years are drama. Twenties are stress. And thirties… well, I haven’t figured out thirties yet but I think it gets easier to figure yourself out as you go.” Lance says.

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” Keith says. “Do you want kids someday?”

“Me? Holy crap, yeah. I’ve _always_ wanted kids.” Lance says.

“Hmm,” Keith says into his cup of cider.

“Do you wanna stay at my place tonight or something? Nothing weird, just a sleepover?” Lance asks.

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be nice.” Keith replies.

“Awesome.” Lance says. They intertwine their fingers again and walk down the street towards the city where they can catch a cab. Lights twinkling all around them and snow falling softly, getting stuck in the hair sticking out of the bottom of Keith’s hat. He gives his boyfriend a look and his breath catches in his throat.

He doesn’t know what kind of force got them together. The same force that made Hunk fuck up a cookie recipe. And that decided Keith was the one to open the door when he’d knocked. That he’d been home at all. Or that he’d said yes when Lance asked him out.

But even if he knew what that force had been, he’d never be able to repay them. He wouldn’t know where to start.

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! Sam's Christmas Klance fic for this year. I hope everyone enjoyed this fluffy mess. 
> 
> If you read all the way through, please take the time to leave a comment. Comments are fuel for me. And they make me feel so much better about my writing.  
> Tell me your favorite scene. Or anything that made you laugh. If you relate to Keith's lactose intolerance or his chocolate sensitivity. Anything would be great. (Please do not post things like 'update soon' or talk about my other fics. I know I'm behind on updates.)  
> Thank you.
> 
> Merry Whatever! :3
> 
> PS: [Here is my Tumblr if you'd like to follow me. (It's a Klance blog!)](http://koganelovesmcclain.tumblr.com/)


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